Robert Millard was what was known in the criminal justice arena as a domestic abuse perpetrator. Each agency used a lot of different acronyms, which Lucy found hard to keep track of at the best of times.
She was currently supervising Robert on a two-year suspended sentence order, after a judge felt his years of sustained abuse against his estranged wife more than warranted the threat of custody if he breached the imposed requirements. Robert’s wife, Louise, was also granted an indefinite restraining order – which meant that he could have no contact with her unless it was removed.
Lucy made her way to the reception area and called out for Robert. He looked exhausted and unkempt as he dragged his feet and followed her into the interview room designated for the riskier, more volatile offenders. Pointing at the chair across from her, Lucy asked Robert to sit down.
‘Why are we in here? We usually go upstairs.’
She could feel the paranoia and edginess emanating from him as she asked him again to sit down; the last thing she wanted was for Robert to be standing up when she confronted him with the information she now had. She waited as he pulled the chair out and sat down.
‘Do you want to tell me what happened the other night, Robert?’ Lucy had learnt over the years that if she gave her offenders the opportunity to come clean, they were less likely to lash out when challenged. She had been supervising Robert on and off for three years now and wanted him to be the one to tell her. This would also give her a better idea of where his risk status was at.
Robert’s face darkened. He clenched his fists tight and his eyes began to glaze over. Suddenly he snapped.
‘Who the fuck do you think you are, you fucking bitch?’ The spittle from his lips hit Lucy’s face like toxic raindrops. Grabbing a tissue from the drawer, Lucy wiped her face without losing eye contact with Robert. She’d not let him get the better of her.
Lucy raised her hands to her ears to lessen the painful sound of metal screeching as Robert pushed back his chair. He leapt towards the wall and Lucy cringed when she heard the crack of his knuckle as flesh met concrete.
‘You’re ruining my life! All you bitches are the same.’
Robert obviously wasn’t going to be forthcoming about the other night. Her hand hovered over the alarm button beneath the desk. Lucy glanced at the camera in the corner and was grateful that reception would be watching. Punching the wall was meant to intimidate her, but she wasn’t impressed. Robert paced the small room then grabbed the back of his chair.
‘Now what the fuck is going to happen to me?’
Lucy waited for his breathing to return to normal. ‘Are you through then, Robert?’ She let the question hang in the air and watched as he calmed down. He nodded his head.
‘Then take a seat and I’ll explain everything.’
Robert reluctantly sat down again, his eyes blazing. She could tell he wasn’t going to trust a word she said, and she prepared herself for another angry outburst.
‘Robert, you broke the conditions of your restraining order. That means, you also broke the requirements. What did you think was going to happen?’ Somehow she kept her voice icily calm.
‘She asked me to come over. Why am I the one getting into trouble?’ He almost sounded like a spoiled child.
‘You know why, Robert. I told you this. You signed the paperwork and said you understood what you were signing. Let’s not kid ourselves here: this is not the first order you’ve been on.’ Lucy cocked her head to the left and raised her eyebrows knowingly. ‘I explained to you that even if your ex-partner made contact, you were not to reply. Ignoring those instructions, you went to her house; you were drunk, you got angry, and you smashed a window—’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake! She wound me up. She was drunk too. Rubbing it in my face that she has a new boyfriend that treats her better – fucking slag. How did she think I was going to react? I didn’t even touch her.’
This wasn’t the first time Lucy had heard this story. Day in and day out, it was always the same. Always someone else’s fault; always the alcohol or drugs that ‘made them’ do it. Not one of these men, or women, ever wanted to accept responsibility for their actions.
‘Look, I have no choice but to give you a warning. You know that. You’ve been charged with a further offence. My hands are tied.’ She pushed across the envelope with his warning letter inside.
‘Are you fucking serious?’ The chair flew back as he stood up and towered over her.
There was no way Lucy was going to let this dickhead take control. She pushed her own chair back calmly, stood face to face with him and looked him directly in the eyes.
‘Whoa, whoa – you need to calm down, Robert. I don’t want to have to push the panic button; there’s no need for you to stand over me like that. Can’t you see how your behaviour could be viewed as threatening?’
Robert once again grabbed his chair but this time he sat back down almost immediately, and Lucy watched his chest rise and fall as he took deep breaths to control his temper.
‘Sorry, miss, but it just seems like every time I’m getting somewhere, it gets thrown back in my face and that pisses me off.’
There it was again. That whiny voice. For a moment it was Patrick sitting across from her. She sat back down.
‘Robert, it’s your actions that’ve caused all this. We’ve been here before. You need to stop and think about things first. You have your group programme coming up soon. You’ll learn some more techniques that will help you recognize the triggers and avoid reacting violently to situations that anger you. We’ve also discussed alcohol previously. And before you say that if you were sober, this wouldn’t happen – just remember, alcohol doesn’t make you do the things you do. You act this way because you choose to. You know you need to keep away from your ex.’
Lucy pointed at the warning letter in the hope that it would encourage Robert to read it. He jammed it into his back pocket unopened.
‘Are we done now?’ He stood up to leave.
‘Do you want to talk anymore about things? Maybe put a plan together in case the situation comes up again?’
‘Fuck that! I’m sick of that bitch getting me into trouble! Just give me my next appointment.’
‘It’s on your warning letter.’
Robert tried to storm out of the room as Lucy smirked behind his back – he needed her to use her swipe card to exit the room. The power was still hers.
‘Open the fucking door!’
‘Right, Robert! Lose the bloody attitude and calm down!’ If she wasn’t careful she’d find herself facing a complaint, but she was so fed up with these men and their controlling ways. Lucy swiped her card and let Robert back out into the reception area.
‘See you next week, Robert.’
Lucy couldn’t help but mutter ‘wanker’ under her breath. The receptionist briefly glanced up from her computer, and Lucy shrugged her shoulders.
There was no response from Robert, but she hadn’t expected one. She knew he was still pretty pissed off, so she made a note to call the domestic abuse team and flag Louise’s address. With Robert in this mood, there was no telling what he might do to his ex-wife.
Lucy needed caffeine to calm her nerves. Her job as a probation officer had her supervising some of the area’s most violent offenders and today was no different.
‘Hey, Lucy. Your hands are shaking, another tough session?’ Sarah asked as she made her way to the coffee machine. Sarah was a brilliant probation officer but also a very good friend.
‘Nah, just the usual, Sarah.’
It wasn’t Robert Millard causing Lucy’s nerves to be on end. She knew that after work her parents and sister were coming around and she didn’t know what kind of mood Patrick would be in, considering he’d been still drunk before she’d left for work. Lucy wished she had the same confidence to deal with the situation at home as she did at work. Self-loathing crept over her as she put a false smile on her face to carry on with her day.
Sarah looked at her in such a way that Lucy wondered if she knew. She rubbed Lucy’s shoulder reassuringly. ‘You know where I am if you need me.’
Lucy tapped her fingers on her desk as she stared at her computer screen, reading the Crown Prosecution documents for the pre-sentence report she had to complete. She wasn’t too keen on interviewing this guy as the offence was brutal in nature. Mr Talbot was late and bail conditions attached indicated that should he fail to attend his interview, a warrant would be issued. She would have to inform the courts. She remembered she needed to stop off at the shop on her way home and picked up her mobile phone to remind Patrick about collecting Siobhan from school.
I know! I got your fucking note
was the text she received back.
Putting her head in her hands, she didn’t hear Sarah come up behind her.
‘Everything all right, Lucy?’
Lucy jumped. ‘Yeah … sorry, I was in a world of my own there for a minute. Everything’s fine, Sarah. I’m just a little distracted. My family is coming for dinner – you know what it’s like.’ Lucy caught Sarah glancing at her phone screen and quickly turned it over.
‘Oh God, yes! Family, eh? The joys!’ Laughing awkwardly, Sarah again squeezed Lucy’s shoulder. ‘Well, let me know if I can do anything. You’re just looking a little stressed.’
‘Thanks, Sarah. I’m fine. Seriously. Just that bloody Robert Millard and now the guy I was interviewing for this court report has failed to show up. Not sure why I agreed to take on the domestic abuse cohort now. Sometimes I just think it would be better if they were all dead! Fucking controlling arseholes.’ Lucy wished she could take back the words as soon as they left her mouth. ‘You know I don’t really mean that, right?’
‘Obviously. Take a few deep breaths, inform the courts and grab a cuppa. Do you want me to contact the police about Robert?’
‘Oh God. I nearly forgot. See what I mean? Thanks for reminding me. I’ll do it now, I need to speak with PC Fielding anyway.’
She watched Sarah walk back to her desk and noted all the tasks she needed to complete for the day. Any excuse to stay a bit longer today at work suited Lucy just fine. The last time her parents visited had been a disaster and she wasn’t sure they’d forgiven her, or Patrick, yet. The longer she left it before seeing them, the better.
Lucy smiled as she picked up the phone to call PC Mark Fielding, she could do with hearing a friendly voice.
Maggie felt a buzz of excitement as she stepped into the room and took in her new surroundings, the open-plan office lined with modern ‘pods’ on the second floor of a grey building. She thought back to when she had first been called into the DI’s office to discuss her move from the murder investigation team. She had been advised that given her recent experience with The Chopper case, her superiors felt that a step away from the team on a temporary basis would do her good, while still allowing her to be involved with the job she’d dedicated her life to. DI Rutherford had said she thought it would help her development.
Maggie walked through the modern office. All the new offices seemed to be set up this way now. The desks were together in groups of two, facing each other. Plain white walls lined with motivational posters preaching the higher up’s latest mantras. Although there were eight of the ‘pods’, only three desks were currently occupied. There was also a small office that looked out over the open-plan area. Maggie suspected it was the detective sergeant’s.
‘Hi! Are you DC Jamieson?’ One of the people in the room called out, a young male of average build. He had a bright smile which immediately made her feel welcome.
‘I am indeed. You can call me Maggie in the office though. And you are …?’
‘I’m PC Mark Fielding – Mark. The guv said you were starting today. How about I give you a quick tour of the place? No doubt DS Hooper will sort out the formal side of things when he arrives and give you a rundown of the murder case that just came in. Start as you mean to go on and all that.’
‘Murder?’ She swallowed, then recovered her composure. So much for a break from homicide. ‘Thanks, Mark, it would be great if you could show me around.’
With Mark making the introductions, Maggie learnt that PC Kat Everett was a feisty one and suspected that they would get on well. Maggie could smell the cigarette smoke from Kat’s clothing and noted her colourful nails. The other officer was PC Pete Reynolds. Pete looked to be in his late thirties or early forties. He barely looked up from his computer screen as he said a strained, ‘hello’.
‘Don’t mind Pete.’ Mark laughed. ‘He’s just joined the team and is fairly new to the police. DS Hooper is making him read all the policies for a test at the end of the week.’ He winked, and Maggie understood the implied message – there was no test, his colleagues were just winding him up.
‘Ah, right then. I’ll leave you to it, Pete.’ Maggie gave him a quick nod.
‘We can grab a coffee and I can take you through to DI Joseph Calleja if you want?’ Mark headed towards what Maggie assumed to be the communal kitchen.
‘Hmmm … OK, but maybe that’s something DS Hooper will want to do? I don’t want to step on any toes, my first day and all.’
‘Good point! Right, let’s get the brews in. Hooper’s in a meeting at the moment. He’ll be back for the briefing at 11 a.m. Why don’t you take the desk across from me? I’ve left the details of the other agencies on your desk. We’re what they call an integrated team and have probation, the Independent Domestic Violence Advocate, Drug and Alcohol services, as well as a few other agencies involved with our team on varying levels. I’m sure the guv will explain more. Sorry, you probably know all this, right?’
Maggie smiled. Having never worked directly with other agencies as part of one team, she wondered if they ever pulled rank or allocated blame on each other when things went wrong. She followed Mark into the kitchen hoping to pick his brains, but before she had the opportunity, a phone rang, and Mark dashed past her to answer it.
‘Domestic Abuse Unit, PC Mark Fielding speaking. How can I help you?’
Mark’s voice was a welcome sound considering the way today had started, Lucy thought.
‘Hi, Mark. You forgot the homicide. It’s Lucy Sherwood from Markston Probation. How are you?’ Due to the nature of the individuals she worked with, Lucy, like many of her colleagues, used her maiden name for professional purposes.
‘Hey, Lucy! Great to hear from you! I know, I know. I still can’t get my head around homicide – why can’t they just say murder? Though I suppose DAMU is probably not the best acronym for a team like ours, is it?’
Lucy heard him laugh down the phone.
‘All’s fine here … just the usual – overworked and under-resourced. To what do I owe this pleasure?’
Lucy felt her cheeks get warm and knew she was blushing. She seemed to blush every time she spoke to Mark. He was so kind to her and made her feel like her opinions mattered, the total opposite of Patrick.
‘I had an interesting supervision session with Robert Millard.’ Lucy heard the groan that Mark tried, unsuccessfully, to hide.
‘OK, are you concerned that something is going to kick off?’
‘A little. I just wondered if you could flag Louise’s address and maybe do a safe-and-well check?’
‘The address is already flagged, but I’ll log this, and note that a safe-and-well check needs to be done. I can’t promise it will be today, we’re a little short staffed, but it is noted. We have a few new additions to the team, so maybe that will help. For now, though, we have to rely on the field teams to pick these up, depending on the other priorities.’
‘Cheers, Mark. That will at least put my mind at ease. I would hate to think he goes around there and something even more serious happens. Louise does have a personal alarm, but we both know she doesn’t use it. I’ll record all this in his case records and make contact with Sharon Bairden; she’s still the victim’s advocate in the unit, right? Hard to keep up with all the changes. Mr Talbot also failed to show up for his pre-sentence report and, because he has bail conditions, I informed the court and expect a warrant to be issued soon. Soooo, anyway, spill. Who are the newbies, what are they like, and when will I meet them?’
‘We know why Mr Talbot failed to report, I’m afraid. Someone should have contacted you. I can’t go into too much detail because it’s an ongoing investigation, but needless to say, it’s one less report you’ll need to write. About the newbie: DC Maggie Jamieson is with us from the Major and Organised Crime Department.’
‘Whoa! You can’t tell me what’s happened to Talbot? And nice to see you keeping it professional. I take it there are other people in the room with you then?’ Lucy laughed.
‘I’ll definitely keep you posted on Talbot, but I don’t have too much info myself. You know me, Lucy, I’m always professional.’
She could just imagine Mark glancing around the room to make sure no one of authority was eavesdropping.
‘Of course, right, I best get back to work. I should be over at the police station soon for a catch-up. Keep me posted on any developments concerning Robert Millard and thanks for the heads-up on Talbot.’
‘Yeah, sorry ’bout that. I’ll have to find out why probation wasn’t contacted. Looking forward to seeing you though. Make sure you bring me a latte, or I’ll have you arrested at the enquiry desk.’
Hearing his laugh made her smile. Lucy sighed as she hung up the phone. If only Patrick could be more like Mark.
Maggie’s first encounter with her immediate superior did not go as she expected. She found herself sitting with her new colleagues near the back of a large briefing room, listening to the details of the murder her team would be investigating.
‘Good morning, everyone.’ Her boss, DS Jim Hooper, looked around the room, stopped at Maggie, giving her an uncommitted nod, then carried on outlining details of the gruesome murder.
‘This is what we know so far. A taxi driver called 999 at 4 a.m. this morning, to notify us that he stumbled across the victim’s lifeless body while he stopped for a break—’
Maggie’s take-charge instinct kicked in and she interrupted Hooper mid flow. ‘Has the driver been questioned by the responding officers or will we be interviewing the witness?’ She immediately regretted her decision.
‘If you let me finish,’ he glared at her then looked down on the desk at a piece of paper in front of him, ‘DC Jamieson, I’ll give you all the information you and the rest of your colleagues need.’
Maggie felt her neck burn with embarrassment.
Hooper posted a picture on the investigation board and a chorus of gasps could be heard around the room. It wasn’t a pretty sight and Maggie regretted having that cream cake when she first arrived.
‘As I was saying, the victim – Drew Talbot – was found lying on his back blocking the path not far from the entry into Beacon Park. The witness indicated that no one else was around and given the time, it is unlikely that anyone else was about – though we’ll still need to confirm that. An empty syringe was sticking out of his neck. His arms were outstretched beside him – palms up – and his hands completely pulverized. You can see from the pictures.’ He pointed at the screen. ‘It looks as if someone took a hammer or a similar implement and battered both hands to a pulp. A large pool of blood gathered underneath his head, the top portion of his legs and his groin area. Initially it was unclear where the wounds were located, but his jeans had two slices on the upper inside thigh of each leg. The wound across his windpipe was easily identified.’
Maggie tapped her pen on the desk and glimpsed at the pictures that were being passed around the room. She made a note to have a closer look once the briefing was finished. Her fascination with crime scene pictures was well known at her old office, but she didn’t want her new team to learn that just yet.
Hooper continued, ‘With the arrival of the pathologist, photographs of the male victim were taken and evidence collected. A wallet found in the back pocket of the body determined that the victim’s name was Drew Talbot – although a formal ID is yet to be made.
‘PC Reynolds, I’d like you to work with the handover team to track down and notify Mr Talbot’s family after the briefing. Mr Talbot had recently appeared in court under a charge of grievous bodily harm, and he has a history of violence against partners. I understand that Lucy Sherwood was supposed to be writing a report—’
‘I think Mark told her earlier that Mr Talbot would not be making the appointment, but he didn’t go into too much detail.’ Maggie looked at Mark.
‘That’s right, guv. Lucy called to let me know that her pre-sentence report had not attended for interview. That’s when I advised that Talbot wouldn’t be making his appointment and, because of an ongoing investigation, I couldn’t share anymore information with her yet. Not sure why someone didn’t contact probation.’
‘As he was one of our nominals, that would have been down to one of you lot. We’ll call it crossed wires and move on, shall we? Fiona Blake, the Home Office pathologist, noted that there was an injury to the back of the victim’s head. She believed that Mr Talbot was attacked from behind and knocked unconscious. It appears he was then rolled over onto his back, a syringe stuck in his neck – we will have to wait for toxicology to find out what substance he was injected with – his hands were mashed to a pulp and the three cuts were then made. Any one of them could have led to his death. That’s where we are at. So, what are your initial thoughts?’
Maggie jumped straight in. ‘Do we have the time of death established? And do we know where Mr Talbot’s victim was during the relevant times?’
‘Talbot’s ex-partner is in hospital with a broken cheekbone, broken jaw, broken arm and strangulation marks around her neck. She is barely able to stay awake for more than an hour at a time and is heavily medicated; we don’t believe she is directly involved, but we will need to interview her family and friends, in case they decided to seek their own revenge. Estimated time of death is any time between 12 a.m. and 4 a.m. when the body was found. Anyone else?’
‘The injuries would suggest to me that this was personal. The injuries on his hands indicate someone was clearly angry with Mr Talbot and took that anger out on his body. Could the killer have been making a statement against Mr Talbot’s abuse?’ Maggie said. Hooper looked at her and she thought she saw the makings of a smile forming on his face.
‘Interesting observation, Jamieson. That’s a line of enquiry I would like you to explore further. You and Mark can look at people close to Talbot’s ex-partners and see if you can eliminate any of them as persons of interest. Kat? Pete? Mark? Do you have anything you want to add?’
‘Fuck sake, guv. I can just about keep my breakfast down at the minute.’ Taking a deep breath Kat added, ‘Were there any other witnesses or vehicles around the area at the time?’
‘Only the taxi driver. Pete can trawl CCTV to see if there were any cars or people acting suspiciously during the times noted and let you know.’
‘OK, guv. I can go out and interview anyone we come across,’ Kat said.
Pete made note of his task and sighed. He had been hoping to get out in the field more.
‘Mark, can you speak to the pathologist and see if she can shed some light on the exact cause of death, and then chase up toxicology?
‘Maggie, you and Kat can interview Wendy Parker; her daughter is the victim of domestic abuse at Talbot’s hands,’ Hooper said.
Mark gave him a thumbs up and gathered his papers.
‘That’s it then. You all know what you need to do. Keep me informed of any developments … oh, and Maggie – welcome to the team.’
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